Grand Theft Auto: Angel City
by Around the World
Summary: Not wanting to spend another cold winter in Liberty City, task man John "Iceman" Winters heads to Angel City, but finds more corruption and murder than he expected.


He sat against the apartment building in Hepburn Heights, sunglasses on, waiting. The people in the courtyard, mostly hookers and Diablos, went about they're usual business, yelling profanities in thick spanish accents, joking with their buddies, and occasionally peddling stolen merchindise and drugs.  
  
He scanned the place, and saw only the tricked up Diablo Stallions buzzing around the streets, with little disregard for the safety of the numerous pedestrians. To say that he hated the place was a huge fucking understatement, but at the moment, there wasn't much he liked. He noticed the leaves on the trees with great dissatisfaction. Their colors were already a burnished red, yellow, and orange, and were falling off into the courtyard, waiting to be crushed by the Aris's of a Diablo. It was late fall already, signalling another freezing, godforsaken, ten below winter in Liberty City. He hated winter. The fact that his surname matched the season of wither just pissed him off more.  
  
The gray Manana pulled into the courtyard, braking just short of the benches by the trees. He got up, taking time to brush his hair out of his eyes, and walked over to the car. His friend Rage sat in the driver's seat.  
  
"Hey Iceman," Rage said, grinning.  
  
"I don't think this is the day to be cheery, Rage."  
  
He stopped smiling. "Sorry, dude. I just..."  
  
"Don't. What are you sorry about? This isn't your fault."  
  
"I know, but still..."  
  
"It's okay," Iceman said. "Let's just go. I just want to get this over with."  
  
Rage nodded, and began to drive out of the courtyard, into the outer edge of Portland Island. The car made it's way past Chinatown, turned left, and headed into Trenton.  
  
Iceman was silent the entire way; he was too busy thinking. Rage understood Iceman's silence. The task at hand was pretty fucked up. He didn't like it much either. He guided the car past the police station, and finally, into the hospital parking. Iceman got out of the car, followed by Rage. They both stepped reluctantly through the sliding doors of the hospital, and into the lobby. Iceman spoke briefly with the receptionist, signed a few forms, and headed back to Rage.  
  
"Just wait here. I won't be long."  
  
"Sure. Take all the time you want."  
  
Iceman walked down the corridor, into the ward unit, and past more doors, and finally, into Room 312. Inside, lying on a bed, tubes sticking out of her, was an elderly woman. She didn't get up to greet him, or even acknowlege him. She was comatose, in a deep sleep that she would never recover from. She had been there since January, when a drunk college student ran her down on the sidewalk. The accident hadn't been kind enough to just end her life right there. Instead, she got to live; if you could call it that. Iceman just thought it was a cruel joke. Fucking nine months in the bed, and his grandmother never moved once. The only thing that sounded in the room was the inhuman, mechanical sound of her respirator, and the occasional beep of the heart monitor in the corner.  
  
He took a chair from near the door, and carried it closer to the bed. He sat down, staring at her. Thinking. She was the last living relative he had. She had taken care of him, fed him, clothed him, and kept him out of trouble. If only the last few years hadn't been so fucked up...  
  
The door opened behind him, and the resident doctor stepped inside.  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
He nodded. He just wanted it to be over with.  
  
The doctor moved quietly to the respirator equipment. He flipped down several switches, and the respirator shut down with a dying hiss. She just lay there still, not even through her death. The heart monitor beeped louder and faster, increasing in tempo, finally ending in an unbroken chirp of noise. Iceman just sat there, watching his grandmother die. She looked so damn frail and thin; he wondered how she lived this long in the first place.  
  
Finally, he got up, and left. Outside, Rage was still sitting patiently, looking up at Iceman as he entered the lobby. Rage got up and walked up to Iceman.  
  
"You okay, dude?" he asked.  
  
"Let's just go."  
  
Outside, Iceman and Rage got into the Manana, and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove into Saint Marks, heading elsewhere.  
  
"Rage," He said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He hesitated a moment, then finally said it.  
  
"I'm thinking of leaving." 


End file.
